


The Center Of Things

by MrsSonBreigh



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Grief/Mourning, Loss, M/M, More tags later, Panic Attacks, Waiting, poor goku cant handle emotions, to be fair neither can vegeta
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-03-14 01:51:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13583472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsSonBreigh/pseuds/MrsSonBreigh
Summary: This is a story about what happened in the seven year gap when Goku was dead. It's sad. Prepare to be sad.There's a non-canon conforming alternate ending, so don't expect any Buu arc stuff. It's too happy for this.





	1. Denial

Cell was dead, and that was a good thing. It could have been much worse. 

 

For other people, at least.

 

The defeat of Cell ended up meaning absolutely nothing to Vegeta. Sure, everyone thought that the fight went ideally, save for the loss of Goku, but to Vegeta, even if the entire world had been blown up, it might have actually made his situation better.

 

He wouldn’t admit it to himself, but he was lost without Goku. He had no reason to train, no reason to get stronger. 

 

But he waited. By the tiny flicker of hope in his heart he kept going, he believed that Goku would come back, and they would finally have that fight he was promised. 

 

But he didn’t. He was dead. Dead for good. 

 

It took a while for Vegeta to realize that he was lost. Too long, far, far too long.

 

But still too soon.

 

* * *

 

He laid in bed, arms folded behind his pillow. He took a deep breath. There was nothing to do, nowhere to go, no one to see. The television was off, for no good reason other than Vegeta didn’t feel like watching it. 

 

He thought about their battle a few months ago. Everyone had fought at their best. He had even found pride in his future son, who he was convinced was a complete puke until then. 

 

They had killed Cell, but strangely, Vegeta didn’t feel the pride and excitement he normally would from a war won. He didn’t feel it when Cell was gone, he hadn’t felt even a glimmer of it since. 

 

He turned over. What in the hell was wrong with him? Normally he would be training, fighting, doing something productive. He had promised to stop fighting when Goku died, but Vegeta thought for sure that it was empty, that he would be back to training in a few days when the initial shock wore off. It didn’t.

 

So there he sat, a few months later, bored out of his mind but not having the motivation nor the willpower to get out of bed and entertain himself. It had been like this for too long, and he knew that. A few months was far too long to go without training even a little bit.

 

Normally he would attempt to meditate, but ironically enough, his mind was too blank for such a thing. He could go shower… He hadn’t done that in a few days. No, it didn’t matter. He was just laying in bed, how could he be dirty?

 

He considered eating, but even that didn’t appeal to him. 

 

Maybe another nap would do.

 

Yes, a nap would be fantastic. 

 

* * *

 

He had been taking more and more naps as the days went on. Though he hadn’t moved his body hardly at all, he was exhausted, and for the life of him he just couldn’t figure out why. He chalked it up to shock from the fight and left it at that. No reason to dwell.

 

His bed was beginning to sink in the middle from where he was laying on it. Before, he only used this room to sleep and store his battle armor, but the small room had become all too familiar to him in the last month. He stayed in there constantly.

 

The woman would come and pester him every once in a while, telling him to get up and do something for once instead of laying in bed and sulking like a kicked pup. He scoffed at the comparison. He was a warrior, not a helpless dog.

 

But as the days crawled by, his body became softer. He was still in fantastic shape, but any of Goku’s friends would be able to tell in an instant that he hadn’t so much as thrown a punch in a long time.

 

After a while, Vegeta decided that he needed some fresh air. Without a plan in mind, he left through his window, not bothering to close it behind himself, and flew north.

 

He flew with his eyes closed, letting the breeze take him where it may. He stopped over a vast forest, the foliage too thick to see to the ground. He dropped down and sat against a tree, closing his eyes again and breathing in the scent of nature.

 

_ ‘It smells like Kakarot.’ _

 

He shook his head with a grimace. Of course it didn’t smell like Goku, the thought was just ridiculous. He attempted to clear his mind, to think of something else, but once the thought of that raven-haired idiot bounced around, there was no getting rid of it. 

 

He tried to remember the last thing he heard Goku say directly to him, and what the last thing he said to Goku was. He couldn’t remember. For some reason, that left him in a strange state of non-being. He wasn’t beside himself, exactly, he just felt blank. 

 

Blank was not a common emotion for Vegeta. Normally it would be something negative, and the few precious times he was in a good mood, but nothingness was unfamiliar, and dare he admit it, scary. 

 

He stood, figuring he had done enough sitting around for a while, and started off in a random direction. He brushed through sparse thicket and weeds, and with a bit of a frown he noticed that the fallen leaves from last autumn still sat undecayed on the ground. That canopy sure was thick, it seemed to keep even the harshest weather from affecting anything. 

 

Because of the leaves, Vegeta almost didn’t notice a worn path weaving between the trees. With a small jut of his wrist the leaves were blown about, yellow dirt revealing itself to be completely void of life. These tracks had obviously not been retraced in a long while, but what about the overgrowth? Had the trails been traveled so often that the feet of those who walked it stomped all life out of the dirt? Why did they leave so suddenly? And where did they go?

 

His mind wandered back to Goku. Left so suddenly to places unknown. Vegeta knew he was dead… But, maybe he wasn’t. Maybe there was still a possibility that he would come back, and make Vegeta’s world a lively one again.

 

He went down the path with that in mind. He wasn’t sure which way to go at first, so he just went to the right in hopes of finding something interesting. 

 

As he strolled along, he noticed that the forest seemed oddly quiet. Usually places like that held abundant life, squirrels and birds at the least, but there was nothing to be heard other than the crunch of Vegeta’s boots on the old leaves. 

 

It was truly something to be admired, the forest was. It was peaceful and serene. Two things that Vegeta hadn’t felt in a long time. He considered staying out there, but swiftly dampened the thought into just that. There was nothing out there for him.

 

_ ‘There’s nothing at Capsule Corp, either.’ _

 

He came to the bank of a river leading from a waterfall. The path went no further, it tapered into nothingness, the grass overtaking the untraveled land. The edge of the bank was worn too, like whoever had come here spend a lot of time either sitting or standing in the same spot enough to leave a bald patch. Vegeta stood there as well, kicking off his boots and socks to dip his feet into the cold water. 

 

It sent a chill up his spine, but it wasn’t a chill from the frigid water. He felt like this place was familiar, like he had been here before.

 

He had not, ever once in his life even seen this waterfall, so why did it seem so eerily reminiscent? He peered into the water, seeing through the foam and ripples a few fish that found his feet a point of interest. They swam against the current to stay and stare at them. It was off-putting, and he stood again, floating a few inches off the ground to let his feet air dry before putting his socks and boots on again.

 

He stayed a bit longer, admiring the graceful way the bubbles floated about, separating for rocks and popping at just the right times. Vegeta could clearly see the appeal of such a place. There was food, and while that would normally be more than enough, the scenery just added that touch of charm that made the site worth revisiting. 

 

He turned around and went the other direction down the path. While walking, he thought about if Goku had ever seen this place. It couldn’t be too far from where he used to live, could it? Vegeta recalled something about him living up on Paozu, but it was a fuzzy memory, so he ignored it. 

 

He passed by the spot where he had first touched down. He felt so off today in particular, he’d been feeling like shit for a while now, but today…

 

He felt more than shitty. He felt… Desolate. Isolated. Empty.

 

It had been so long since he felt even close to this depressed. The only other time was after he had found out that his planet was dead, along with everyone except three of his subjects. Nappa had tried to comfort him, but he was still so young, only toddler aged at the time. He wouldn’t listen to anyone or entertain any thoughts of doing anything Frieza didn’t tell him to. 

 

As he walked, he kicked a pebble along with him, and for some reason, grew an attachment to it. Was he really that lonely? He shook his head and picked it up anyway, slipping the tiny thing into the palm of his glove. He kept walking, just staring at his feet as he gently exuded some power to brush the leaves away.

 

The trail faded to a stop once more, and he finally looked up from his shoes to come face to face with a tiny hut. 

 

What such an elaborate home was doing so deep in the woods was lost on Vegeta, but it had obviously not been inhabited for a long while. The wood pile (or what once was a wood pile) had decayed until it sat as a lump of mulch on the ground. The windowless walls were weathered into a dull gray color, and the front door had obviously been scratched at by a few wild animals. 

 

He walked forward, noticing that the leaves had actually deteriorated in the clearing, and went to test the door handle. It had obviously once been locked, but the handle creaked under the pressure of Vegeta’s hand and clicked open.

 

It was just as small on the inside as it was on the outside. A single room house, a canopy bed to the right, a few pots and jugs to the left, and a dresser desk at the back wall. 

 

The smell smacked Vegeta clean across the face. Not in the sense that it was strong. No, quite the opposite. It was familiar. 

 

The whole house reeked with the scent of a Saiyan child. 

 

Tears immediately started pouring down Vegeta’s face, but he hardly noticed as he walked past the threshold, closing one half of the door behind him. 

 

Goku’s childhood home. Vegeta found it hard to believe that such a small space was able to contain a Saiyan cub. But it obviously had.

 

Goku’s smell hadn’t changed much in the twenty-something years since he had left, which was unusual, but kind of comforting. He hadn’t had the pleasure of simply having Goku around at all for a while, and before then it was rare that they were close enough for Vegeta to smell him, but the scent…

 

It didn’t help his grief. In fact, it only made him realize how desperately lonely he was. His tears flowed harder as he went to sit on the musty mattress. The sheets were messed up before he had sat down. That’s how Goku left them the last day that he had spent here. Vegeta avoided shifting them.

 

Why had he flown here, of all places? He could’ve ended up anywhere else in the whole world, but here. He hadn’t even known that it existed at all, let alone where in the world it was.

 

With his head in his hands, Vegeta no longer felt empty. Far from it.

 

He felt full to the brim with agonizing emotional pain. Nothing, not even the several holes in his chest that he had on Namek, hurt him as much as Gokus absence did. That’s why he had been off his game ever since the fight.

 

Goku was gone. And he had not finished grieving.

 

He thought of their first fight, the sight of him laying on the ground, bloodied and broken. He thought of Namek, watching him fight Jeice and Burter, when he saw a Super Saiyan for the first time. He remembered what it felt like to see him after the near two years he had been gone in space afterward. 

 

What had happened between then and now? Vegeta hadn’t felt the slightest bit of grief back then. But now he was stricken with it, immobilized by it. It cemented him to his spot, not hardly letting him breathe let alone think straight. 

 

He didn’t believe it, though. Not a single thing in the world could convince him that he was depressed over the loss of Goku.

 

He was an annoyance. A hindrance. A doomed battle. Now that Goku was gone, Vegeta was the best. 

 

He was the best. 

 

He wanted this, didn’t he? He had surpassed the child quite quickly as the boy gave up fighting in favor of his studies, and no one else even came close. 

 

He had what he had been searching for the past decade in his hands. He had it. He had won. 

 

It didn’t feel like a victory. It felt like a huge part of his body was missing, much like the initial feeling of the loss of his tail, but so much more spiritual.

 

He was lost still. Finding Goku’s home changed nothing.

 

But he still cried. And cried. He cried for hours. By the time the tears had stopped it was nearly dark out, and he couldn’t smell the faint scent of Goku any longer. He decided to leave, closing the scratched up door behind him, and walking off down the dirt path again.

 

He walked to the waterfall, back to the house, back to the waterfall, over and over until the sun peeked its bright rays over the horizon. 

 

Vegeta didn’t feel like going home. Whatever ‘home’ was at that point. He decided that going inside one last time wouldn’t hurt.

 

But oh God, did it hurt. He could clearly smell Goku now that he was expecting it, and having that but not the real man, in the flesh, next to him, was too much to bear. He left the house again, going instead for the back, where sat a metal drum and a laundry line. There was a clothespin sitting on the line, with a torn strip of indigo cloth hanging from it. 

 

Blinking slowly, Vegeta opened the rusty spring holding the wood together and plucked the stubborn, faded fabric from its confines. He ran his fingers over it for a moment before tucking it in his glove along with the pebble from yesterday. 

 

The pain was near unbearable. He had to admit it now, he missed the fool. There was no other reason to revisit the house, to consciously smell him again, to hold on to the scrap of cloth that once laid on his body.

 

He missed Goku. He missed him terribly. Vegeta was the last full-blooded Saiyan, a prince with an empty title. No planet or kingdom to speak of, and now… No subjects left either.

 

The pain of grief was swiftly overtaken by the pain of blinding rage. Goku left. He had  _ left  _ him! He left him an empty prince with no throne, no army. Not even a friend. 

 

He wanted to burst open, he wanted to kill something. He wanted to destroy. 

 

He wanted to land to feel how fucking lonely and  _ pissed  _ he was. If he hadn’t the shred of faith left that Goku may return one day, he would have flown to the farthest reaches of the atmosphere and blown the whole planet to smithereens. He would kill every last human and alien, including himself. 

 

Inconsolable. 

 

He wanted to leave and train. To beat the fuck out of something or someone. But he couldn’t bring himself to leave the house. He couldn’t. It was one of the only pieces of Goku left in the whole world. He had to treasure it before it too disappeared into thin air without so much as a glance or a genuine goodbye.

 

No comfort. No resolution. No future. 

 

Only the pain of loss, and the seemingly endless void next to him that should’ve been the space that Goku filled. He had never felt so empty and so full of grief at the same time. It wasn’t just the pain of losing the rest of his kingdom that ripped him to shreds, it was the fact that he had no one to relate to anymore. No one to keep him on Earth. No one to motivate him. 

 

He was left on the top. The only way to go was down. 

 

He felt the momentos through the fabric of his glove. He really was softening into the type of man he had hated. But he couldn’t stop it. 

 

Abandoning the painful weight in his stomach he stood, looking up through the clearing to the sky. It was only mid-morning, and the tiredness he had felt from walking all night with no sleep didn’t affect him like the fatigue of emotional agony.

 

Either way. He was exhausted. 

 

He didn’t care that he was light-headed, he didn’t care that he felt like he might fall unconscious at any moment. He didn’t even care that he had no home to go back to, and no one waiting for him. All he cared about was getting his mind off Goku. 

 

He tugged the piece of cloth from his glove in favor of tucking it in his training suit, and let the pebble fall out onto the ground, immediately falling through blades of grass and old leaves to disappear for good. 

 

Flexing his hand, Vegeta slowly flew from the ground, looking down on the little shack. It still hurt. It hurt so much. He had to get it off his mind. 

 

Training. He would train. That would do well to get his mind off of that useless clown.

 

He sighed and flew off at top speed, south-west. 

 

* * *

 

Instead of training, Vegeta laid in the wasteland where he first met Goku. Where he lost his first fight. 

 

He laid on his back, eyes shut away from the sky, and flexed his hands around in the orange clay beneath him. 

 

He had been determined to destroy something, but the only thing he had destroyed since getting there was the rest of his morale, if he had any. He had cried again, the wetness of his tears making his hair uncomfortably wet behind his ears. 

 

He felt ashamed. No one had driven him this deep into depression. No one had ever had that much power over his emotions. He hadn’t even missed Nappa, his only ‘friend’ since his childhood. 

 

_ ‘Why?’ _

 

The thought was a simple one, the answer, not so much. Why what? 

 

Why had Goku left? Why was he so distraught over it? Where did Goku go? Where was Vegeta supposed to go? Who was left to keep his feet on the ground?

 

No one. No one was left. Whether he decided to ignore the thought or not, Goku was his whole world. His only motivation, his only friend.

 

And that lead to Vegeta being absolutely destroyed.

 

He shouldn’t have trusted Goku. He betrayed that trust. Vegeta had all but given his heart to Goku on a platter, and he took it, ate it, and decided to go and die.

 

If Vegeta had a heart left to hate with, he would loathe Goku with all of it. Every fiber. 

 

But he didn’t, and all he wanted was for him to come back. Tell him that he’s back for good. That he isn’t going to leave him again.

 

Vegeta stood. It was useless. Goku wasn’t coming back. He couldn’t anymore. He was dead for good. Nothing mattered.

 

Not Bulma. Not Gohan. Not Trunks.

 

Not Earth. Not Goku.

 

Not Goku.

 

Not Goku.

 

He didn’t matter.

 

He didn’t.

 

Gathering all the strength he could manage, Vegeta told himself over and over that Goku didn’t matter. That nothing mattered anymore, and screamed.

 

He screamed and powered up as much as he could, hardly waiting to catch his breath before ascending. He kept going, yelling himself up into super Saiyan two. 

 

He fell unconscious, hair fading to black and his vision doing the same. He fell to the ground, smacking his head so hard that he didn’t wake up for a long, long time. 

 

* * *

 

When he did finally wake up, he was back in his bed at Capsule Corp, with Bulma looking down at him from her place in a chair.

 

He glared at her, mouth too sticky to yell.

 

She closed her eyes and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, “Piccolo carted you home. You were out for three days,”

 

Without saying anything, Vegeta’s hand went to his chest, digging around in his suit for that piece of cloth.

 

He took a deep, relieving breath. Vegeta would’ve never forgiven himself if he had lost that in his rage. He needed to salvage every last piece of Goku in existence if he was going to make it through the rest of his.

 

He vaguely wondered if he would ever see Goku in the afterlife. Probably not. He would end up a formless spirit in hell. 

 

Never. He would never see him again. 

 

Bulma eyed him as he rubbed the piece through his fingers, staring at him strangely.

 

“What’s that?”

 

He ignored her, tempted to bring it to his face to see if it still smelled like him, but the woman would find him even stranger than before, but really he didn’t care. It was just the principle of it.

 

“Vegeta.”

 

He closed his eyes, pulling the fabric away from her sight in one hand, “What?”

 

“Where did you go?” She crossed her arms, becoming impatient. That idiot hadn’t done a single thing in months, and she was growing tired of it. 

 

He debated his answer for a minute, “Out.”

 

His voice was so deep and gruff that he hardly recognized it as his own. He had hardly spoken to anyone (or himself for that matter) in such a long time, talking almost hurt him.

 

Bulma took a deep breath, “Out? After laying in bed for five months? You just went out?”

 

Vegeta was growing equally tired at the woman’s constant badgering, “Yes.”

 

She grunted weirdly, dropping her arms, “Would you stop responding with one word?”

 

“No.”

 

Giving up, she left the room.

  
  


Vegeta didn’t bother moving again. His raging episode had left him drained, and really? All he wanted to do was sleep anyway.

 

He never let that little piece of cloth go, though. At one point he decided to shed his gloves and appreciate the fabric’s texture, though it wasn’t exactly pleasant. It was rough and worn, near falling apart in his grip, but he held it with such tenderness that it couldn’t have crumbled even if it wanted to. 

 

As the days passed, he became more aware of his pining for Gokus return. Everything he thought about hinged on that man, whether he wanted it to or not. 


	2. Anger

He never thought that sacrificing himself would make Vegeta so sad.

He worried endlessly about his old friend, watching him at every chance he got just to make sure that he was okay.

A week after Goku died, he felt some weird energies coming from the earth. So he watched. First he saw his wife, and noticed that she was pregnant. For a moment he was happy to be a father again, but the joy was quickly snuffed out when he realized that he would never meet his youngest.

He then looked on to his first son and was pleased to see that, even though he gave up fighting, he was pursuing something that he always was passionate about. The thought itself filled his chest with pride.

Everyone seemed to be doing just fine, so where was that strange energy coming from?

He checked in on Vegeta.

Oh, fuck.

* * *

 

Once Goku found out that Vegeta had been laying in bed and not moving for weeks, he panicked. He firmly believed that Vegeta was the most headstrong, stubborn, and completely determined warrior on the planet. To see him so catatonic, so stormy… It was a jolt.

So he watched. For weeks upon weeks during and in between training with King Kai, though the only thing he ever saw was him laying in bed.

It hurt him more than he cared to admit, and slowly he began to feel like it was his fault. He had put the earth in danger so many times, left his family, left his friends… And now he’s abandoned Vegeta, and the prince was not handling it very well.

King Kai shook his head, “You’re being sloppy, Goku.”

“Ugh, I know… Just…” He took a deep breath, twisting his whole form at the waist for a stretch, “Gimme a sec, would ya?”

The short man groaned, “You’ve been like this for days.”

Goku tapped his foot on the solid ground, finding that his mind kept wandering to the unresponsive Vegeta back on earth, “Fuck! Alright, I’m sorry!” He pulled his senses back into himself reluctantly. Leaving Vegeta unmonitored made him nervous.

He was either too distracted by watching Vegeta or too worried by ignoring him that either way he wasn’t getting anywhere with his training. He dropped his hands in defeat, opening his stance to something entirely vulnerable, “I can’t handle right now King Kai. Just… I don’t know! Let me fucking calm down for a while.”

“Goku! Seriously! There’s something wrong, I can tell!” King Kai crossed his arms in front of his chest, becoming impatient.

Goku clawed at his hair, “It’s Vegeta. He’s… Something’s wrong.”

King Kai looked off at the sky, “Ah, yes. I was wondering how long it would take for you to notice. He seems pretty down, huh?”

Goku shook his head, “I don’t get it though! Vegeta never takes breaks, what is he doing!?”

“It looks like he’s depressed. I recall him saying something about never training again right after you died?” King Kai rubbed his chin, also looking down at the desolate prince.

Goku couldn’t hold back a groan of frustration, “Why would he do that? It’s not like him at all...”

King Kai had to hold back the thought that went through his head, that maybe Vegeta was so down because Goku was gone. Voicing that would not end well, either way it went.

Goku seemed to fall into hysterics while King Kai was thinking. He was then sitting on the ground, swaying back and forth with his head in his hands, “I can’t even make sure that he’s okay! What if he does something stupid or hurts himself?!”

“Goku! Calm down, would you? I’ll get into contact with him now.” King Kai closed his eyes in concentration, struggling to make a connection with Vegeta’s near-dead brain. He even broke a sweat trying to connect through.

He unclenched his jaw and sagged his head, “He’s put up a mental barrier. I can’t talk to him at all.”

Goku had the urge to keep pointing out that something was wrong with his old friend, but resisted. He couldn’t let himself panic over something so trivial. Maybe Vegeta had just needed to recoup after the fight, and he was still injured.

Yes, of course! That had to be the case, Vegeta wouldn’t lay down all the time like that otherwise.

But one thing was strange. Vegeta hadn’t moved, but instead of being in a hospital gown or loose clothes, he still donned his blue spandex and golden armor. That couldn’t be comfortable… What the hell was going on down there?

King Kai watched on as his student lost himself in thought. He decided to go back into the house, all this thinking was bound to work Goku’s appetite up.

But after another hour of Goku sitting outside, the Kai had to intervene in some way.

“Goku! It’s time to eat, let’s go!”

Goku was now on his back, eyes staring blankly up at the sky, “He’s just... Laying there. He looks so empty.”

King Kai sighed in exasperation, “So are you, dummy. Get up, it’s time for dinner.”

Goku reluctantly stood and followed his friend inside, sitting down next to Bubbles for dinner. He was almost too distracted to keep the trajectory of his chopsticks toward his mouth, and ended up with rice and chicken all down his front.

He didn’t seem to mind, or really notice for that matter. He was still mentally willing Vegeta to get out of bed and do something. It was frustrating to see so much potential just sit there and seemingly not care about a damn thing.

With some effort, Goku was able to concentrate purely on Vegeta’s face, and immediately wished he hadn’t. Vegeta’s cheeks and eyes were sunken in, not a sparkle of happiness or even mischief reflecting there. Usually, his eyes would be alight with some sort of plot, but he just been laid down, looking terribly empty.

If it wasn’t for his shallow breathing and the occasional shift of his eyes, he would look dead and half decayed.

Goku felt a strange pain in his chest at the sight. Where was Bulma? She would normally light a fire under Vegeta’s ass, but she was nowhere to be seen. Did no one care that Vegeta was wasting away? That there was something wrong with him?

Goku finished the rest of his dinner, or at least what hadn’t found its way to the floor, and prepared for bed.

King Kai had been oddly quiet toward him for a few hours, and Goku wasn’t sure if it was because he was upset or if he just wanted to give Goku time to process what was happening.

He couldn’t go back. The dragon balls wouldn’t work anymore. He would have to wait for Vegeta to pass on himself if they were to ever see each other again.

But even then it was unlikely. It was mentioned over and over that Vegeta wouldn’t be able to keep his body once he died, he would be a formless soul with no capability of interacting with Goku at all.

It hit him all at the same time. He would never get to talk to Vegeta again.

Never. It was too late.

He thought it over several times as he brushed his teeth, as he showered, as he got undressed.

Never again.

Never.

And he had to just watch as his best friend faded away into the background. Even as it seemed, his energy in general was hard to feel. It seemed stagnant, as if his soul itself was weakening alongside his body.

Someone so strong rendered so helpless.

Goku laid in bed, staring, unblinking at the ceiling. He believed King Kai without question when he said that he was unable to get through to Vegeta, but he had never actually tried himself. He was unpracticed, sure, but he believed that if he tried hard enough…

He closed his tired eyes, finding that part inside of him that he once used to speak to his son during Cells defeat. He called upon it, bringing the morsel up into his conscience.

‘Vegeta?’

Static. He tried again, zeroing in on Vegeta’s ki.

‘Vegeta.’

Still nothing. Goku shook his head and prepared a longer ‘messenger’ thought. Hopefully, Vegeta would be able to feel that someone was trying to contact him and bring his walls down for just a minute.

He took a deep breath and laced his fingers over his stomach, trying his best to concentrate even though his whole world was in vertigo.

‘Vegeta… I’m not sure what to say right now, but I want you to let King Kai and I in. I need to make sure you’re alright. I can see you down there… I’m worried. Even if you don’t want to talk, just please stop laying around like that. It’s not like you at all.’

Letting just a few of his thoughts go, Goku was finally able to settle down into his bed dressings. The fatigue from a long day of physical training and mental anguish caught up to him in the form of heavy eyelids. He slowly but surely fell asleep, the only thing on his mind being the dead expression in Vegeta’s eyes.

* * *

 

Over the next weeks, Goku made sure to keep a close eye on whatever Vegeta may get up to, which happened to be a whole load of nothing. He mostly showered less than once a week, slept, ate, and went to the bathroom. Nothing else.

Bulma did eventually show up, but it took days. All she did was come in, talk about how useless Vegeta was proving himself to be (which didn’t help the situation at all), and opened a window.

Goku held his breath as Vegeta swung his legs off the side of the bed and stood, but his excitement was smothered when all he did was walk across the room to close the window again.

King Kai quickly noticed the shift in Goku’s mood. As soon as the young warrior laid eyes on his former friend, his spirit for training was dampened just enough that it was notable. Goku moved slower, just a tad, and he had trouble keeping his energy stable during meditation.

The short God knew that Goku would have trouble getting over Vegeta’s seemingly abrupt depression, but what he wasn’t sure of was how soon Vegeta would perk up again and go back to kicking ass like he always used to. If his mood improved then so would Gokus.

But the bad thoughts kept pursuing both of them, Vegeta laid catatonic for most of it, only very seldom letting a tear of self-pity leak from his eyes. Goku, on the other hand, took it like a direct hit to the solar plexus. He had a much harder time quietly coping with the grief of loss, but King Kai wasn’t sure which was the more unhealthy practice.

To become completely detached, or to let your emotions control your every move.

And the little man didn’t rest either. He was ill at ease at how fast Vegeta’s demeanor had changed, and he tried every day to contact the prince, to hopefully find a hole in his wall.

Vegeta certainly didn’t put much effort into many things recently, but one thing he perfected was keeping people out. Not a good thing.

Goku also increasingly ate less and less. He went from being able to wolf down fifty gallons of rice and meat to being only able to eat forty-five.

Normally the change wouldn’t bother King Kai much, but paired with the sour mood Goku was in a lot of the time, it spelled a recipe for disaster. So he kept an eye on him, a very close eye.

His decline was slow, anyone else would’ve missed it had they not been looking close enough. King Kai doubted that even Goku himself had noticed. He was too busy overseeing Vegeta, after all. Sometimes he would even randomly slip out of form completely. He would fall into a relaxed stance, face blank and eyes vaguely concerned, searching. This would cause his master to sigh. Goku had so much more potential than this, if Vegeta was able to render him complacent from doing literally nothing… He was near certain that something bigger was going on in Goku’s head.

But he foolishly chose to ignore it for the time being.

Every single night Goku found himself in a routine. Dinner, brush teeth, shower, attempt to contact Vegeta, go to bed.

But every day his messages became more and more desperate. If one looked close enough it would seem that Goku was throwing himself into hysterics. He never got replies, and that was what worried him. Vegeta was alive, yes, so it wasn’t like he wouldn’t receive his messages because he couldn’t, but rather because he either didn’t get them because of his mental wall, or that he was getting them, but chose to ignore. Goku knew this, but he didn’t know which one would break him more.

Still, he persisted. Without fail, every single night, he would try to break through, even after he knew that it was a lost battle. At least he still held that part of his character.

He never even bothered checking in on his wife and her ever-growing belly. He couldn’t find it in himself to care enough to tear his attention away from Vegeta for even a minute. Even as the mornings broke, as soon as Goku had full operation of his brain again, he would seek out Vegeta, lock onto his ki, and stay clung on until he fell asleep the following night.

It was slowly becoming an obsession, and King Kai noticed it.

It wasn’t healthy, but at least the boy was able to focus on something.

Goku’s intentions were to sacrifice himself to protect everyone. He needed to make sure that they were safe. That was his main goal, but soon he saw that not only did his sacrifice not protect them, it actively destroyed one of his best friends.

He couldn’t help but feel responsible. If he hadn’t died then Vegeta never would’ve gotten sad. He would’ve gone on blissfully unaware of the alternative. Unfortunately, the crossroads they were met with had long passed, and there was no turning back. No reset button.

Goku wondered if Vegeta also blamed him for what had happened. Was he mad? Or did he miss the idiot? It didn't make any sense to the young warrior at all. He felt so confused, everything felt jumbled and blurry, like he had far too much to drink.

But more than anything, Goku was mad at himself. It was his fault. He was the one that destroyed Vegeta along with Cell. Vegeta was as good as dead if all he did was lay in bed and do nothing, wasting away like a rotting body.

The anger, the grief, the overwhelming guilt that Goku went through in the following months slowly tore him apart.

And he was no better than Vegeta.

Ever so slowly, Goku lost his will. Not only to train, but to eat, to meditate, to do anything. He just kept watching Vegeta, day in, day out. The fact that he never moved didn't give Goku the comfort that he would have from knowing that Vegeta was safe. Because he wasn't. He might be safe from external threats, but there were none anyway. All the demons came from the inside, and there was no way on Kamis green earth that he was going to shed them by just laying in bed.

Goku ignored the fact that he was devolving into the same situation that Vegeta was in. He was too busy keeping track of the prince to care for the pauper.

Five months. It had been five whole months since Goku died, and just over four since he noticed Vegetas decline. He had been watching the stationary man for so long that he had all but forgotten where he was himself, and King Kai, predictably, was sick of it.

He had made up his mind to confront Goku about his lack of ambition, and what he could do as his guardian to help. But when he came out of the hut, hands folded wisely behind his back, Goku was nowhere to be found.

In a bit of a panic, King Kai searched every square inch of his tiny planet in efforts to find Goku, but he was nowhere. Just as he was about to give up and accept that Goku had run off to do something more productive (or not) with his time, the dull gray tail of snake way caught his eye.

He almost hadn't noticed the blob of orange that had been sat right at the end, legs hanging off the sides and swinging back and forth, as if tempted to jump.

With a deep sigh of mixed relief and frustration, King Kai hopped down onto the path, landing just behind the sulking man. Something seemed off, though. More off than usual. He hesitated a moment to ask, but just as he was about to place a comforting hand on Goku's shoulder, he was interrupted.

Goku sucked in a slow breath through the nose and sighed it out, chin resting in his hand and elbows on his knees.

"It's my fault, isn't it, Kaio-sama.”

It wasn't a question. Again before he had a chance to say anything in response, Goku beat him to it.

“How often do you check on him?”

The Kai shook his head and sat down, this was bound to be a long conversation, “A few times a week now, why?”

Goku laughed mirthlessly, “It must be nice.”

King Kai scooted a bit closer, “What do you mean, Goku?” He had a nasty feeling in his gut that he knew exactly what Goku meant.

Goku laughed again, the rise and fall in his shoulders turning into quivering when he started to cry.

Through choked sobs, he did his best to try and explain the feelings in his chest, “I watch him all the time. All the time, Kaio-sama.” He sniveled, “And he just lays there,” A shuddering breath, “And it's my fault! If I was still alive… If I had been there for him, then none of this would've had to happen.”

“Goku, you know I'd offer to put a call in for you if I could. But his barriers are just too strong. There's nothing we can do.”

Goku kicked his legs harder, swaying his whole form back and forth, “Bullshit there's nothing we can do. I'll find a way to get to him, one way or another, and then I can try to make everything better,” He looked over his shoulder, eyes red and puffy, “That's supposed to be my job anyway, right?”

King Kai ran a hand back and forth across Goku's shoulders in an effort to comfort him, “It's true that people relied on you, Goku, but you've done more than your fair share of saving lives… That's why you got to keep your body, remember?”

Goku shook his head almost hysterical, “You think I give a shit about my body?! Take a good fucking look at what I left in my wake, Kaio-sama! I'm the only one that wants to help Vegeta, and I can’t! Even if I could, he probably hates me anyway, for getting him into this mess.”

“I'm sure that if you were to talk to him he would tell you otherwise.”

“He wouldn't want to talk to me anyway. I've just ruined everything he had going for him.”

King Kai stood with a scoff, “If he hated you, Goku, would he be mourning your death this terribly?”

Goku didn't answer.

“That's what I thought.”

Just as he was about to jump back up into the gravity of the planet, Goku held him by the cuff of his sleeve, “What his birthday?”

King Kai stuttered for a moment, “What?”

Goku looked up at him, a happily familiar fire in his eyes, “When is Vegetas birthday?”

“The twelfth of November, why?” King Kai was becoming increasingly concerned with what Goku may be plotting.

“And what date is it on earth right now?”

“...October twenty-fourth.”

Goku nodded, deep in thought, “Thanks, Kaio-sama.”

King Kai was suddenly reluctant to leave. He wasn't sure what Goku was planning, but it sure wasn't good. But finally, he left and went back up to his little planet, being sure to keep an eye on Goku.

He sat for a while, still kicking his legs a bit. Vegeta was staring up at the ceiling, and if Goku pretended hard enough, it almost felt like Vegeta was looking at him. He could only wish that it was real, that maybe by some grace of the Kais that Vegeta would see through the lightyears separating them and see that someone cared, even if it was just little old Goku.

But suddenly Vegetas eyes shifted, like they did when he had to do something like eat or shower, so Goku wasn't surprised when he stood up. What he wasn't counting on was Vegeta going to his window, that as far as Goku knew, had last been opened by Bulma, a few months ago. He imagined that the air in that room was stuffy as all hell. But when Vegeta threw the window open, he didn't go back to his bed.

Goku was thrilled! Finally, Vegeta was getting out of the house and doing something! He watched as his hair rippled in the wind, his eyes closed as if he were taking a nap mid-flight. Goku felt like he knew where he was headed, but he knew that Vegeta had no idea about his old cottage, there was no way he would know where it was.   
But he went north anyway, flying fast over the city, the wastelands, and the prairies until he was stagnant over the heavily wooded area where Goku grew up.

When Goku lived there he hadn't known how to fly yet, so he never actually saw the top canopy himself, but he knew in his spirit that Vegeta was in the right place.

He followed Vegeta do through the red and yellow canopy and projected himself into a spiritual body, pretending to sit Indian style across from him, like they were meditating together. But being so close did little to help Goku’s mood, Vegeta’s eyes were black underneath, which made no sense with the amount of sleep he was getting, fitful or not.

Overall his old friend just looked tired. Like the whole world had its weight on his shoulders and he was carrying it around for months. He probably had.

But after sitting for just a few minutes, Vegeta hoisted himself up again, and Goku followed.

He would follow Vegeta to the end of the universe if he could.

They walked to the waterfall, Vegeta being completely blind to his invisible partner. When he came to a stop, Goku couldn’t stop the urge to wrap his ghostly arms around Vegeta's shoulders, and if he imagined hard enough, he could maybe feel the warmth of his living body against his chest. He let go when Vegeta sighed and dipped his feet in the water, and he sat on a nearby rock, the one where he used to fish before he lost his tail.

He watched Vegeta stare blankly into the water for a few minutes. He could tell that the prince was so far deep in thought that even if Goku was actually there, in the flesh, that he wouldn't notice anyway.

And then they headed the opposite direction. A knot twisted inside Goku’s guts almost painfully, not only had he not seen his cottage in a long while, but the anticipation of Vegeta’s reaction left a weird bitter taste in the back of his throat. When it finally came into sight, Vegeta’s reaction was shockingly blank. It was just like any other house, like how Goku was just like any other man.

The thought saddened him. He knew all along that Vegeta thought nothing special of him, that he was never more than an inconvenience. Goku chided himself, he was a fool to think that Vegeta might have harbored any feelings for him other than negative ones.

But again, he was wrong. Just as Vegeta walked into the house, he began to cry. Goku wasn't sure if it was because he knew that Goku once lived there, or if all of his exhaustion was just catching up to him, but there he was, standing in the doorway and bawling his eyes out.

They were different. The tears were nothing like the prideful ones Goku had witnessed all those years ago, there was something hard and reserved about those.

But these? These tears were free-flowing, running down Vegeta’s face to drip off his chin and to the floor. His breathing was shaky, the muscles of his back quivered like they did when someone was not only desperately sad, but cold and alone as well.

The elder of the two sat on the old bed, the frame creaking under the weight. Vegeta buried his head in his hands and continued to tremble. And every once in a while, he let out a weak whine.

It physically hurt Goku to witness. Despite his projection, back on snake way, his physical body was shaking from the combined anger and sadness. Anger toward himself, and sadness for the mess of a man he left behind.

He sat there with Vegeta for what felt like (and probably was) hours.He had the biggest urge to just hold him, to try and make everything better. He felt like a mother looking after an injured child; hating that he was hurt and doing everything could to fix it, no matter how futile it was. Goku’s heart grew cold as Vegeta left the house and walked the path again. He made it to the end of the trail, stopped to look at the waterfall for a minute, and turned back around to head back toward the cottage.

But as Vegeta didn't reenter the house, he started to get worried as Vegeta turned again.

And again. And again. Goku could've sworn he'd seen something similar in a movie before, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He was expecting Vegeta to tire out eventually, but he kept going. He didn't sleep. Sometimes he dragged his feet, near collapsing, and others he ran as fast as he could, leaving a billow of leaves in his wake.

And then the sun rose, and Vegeta still walked along the path. Even as the dim dawn of morning passed by, when the fish were playful and teasing, he never hunted them. Goku had a hard time remembering the last time he saw Vegeta eat something, and it really concerned him, he had never seen his partner look so peckish.

Finally, about ten in the morning, Vegeta decided to go back inside. He was shivering from the cold and being outside all night long, and Goku willed more than anything that he would take that blanket and wrap it around his shoulders, but the prince hadn't so much as disturbed it while he was visiting.

But he didn't even sit down. He walked in, stood in the doorway for less than five seconds, and turned back around. For a moment Goku thought that he was going to continue walking, but he just walked around to the back and leaned against the wall for a little bit.

Goku hadn't even noticed his old clothes had torn off the laundry line, but Vegeta sure did, and he took a scrap of the cloth off it, where it had been ripped off, probably by a wild animal. Goku was confused at first, but then something clicked in his brain.

Vegeta didn't hate him at all, he just missed Goku, that's why he was hanging around his old house end being oddly sentimental. While the thought comforted him quite a bit, it didn't change the fact that Vegeta was suffering, whether it be because he was gone or not. He couldn't possibly be happy knowing that Vegeta was so distraught that he could hardly function.

But his relief was quickly snuffed out when he saw the change in Vegetas face. He no longer looked empty, or sad. In fact, his face held more emotion than it had in months. But it wasn't a nice one.

Vegeta looked like a shell of his old self, same familiar scrunched eyebrows, but a hardness in his eyes that wasn't usually there before. But Goku recognized it, and it made him start to tremble all over again.

Vegeta was pissed.

Goku's heart nearly stopped when Vegeta looked to the side, right at where Goku had led his projection, but he scoffed and began to shake himself.

He didn't know that Goku was there, but he sure had felt it.

And then the older looked away, back up at the sky, and stared, as if trying to talk directly to Goku, though there was no way that he could. All his face said was, ‘I know you're there, Kakarot. Get out of my fucking head, bastard.’

And he did. Goku sucked his projection back into himself and simply watched from above, Vegeta's piercing eyes still staring into the heavens. He moved the cloth to his chest and tucked it into his suit before suddenly flying off, leaving Goku to try and catch up with him before he disappeared.

Even though Goku was now fully convinced that Vegeta hated him, it still made him feel a little happy to recognize the canyon where they first fought.

Done invading Vegeta's space, Goku watched as he fell backward into the clay and started to work it through his fingers, turning his pristine white gloves orange. His eyes glistened as he's he held back tears for a long while before finally letting them go.

The next few things that Vegeta did left Goku feeling a bit dizzy and panicked. All of a sudden he started powering up, and he kept going, kept going, and didn't stop until lightning crackled around his tired body.

And it finally gave out.

Goku would've thought he was dead if it wasn't for the shallow rise and fall of his chest, but he watched for a while anyway, becoming aware of every minute movement Vegeta's unconscious body made.

After a while, Piccolo appeared, and he glared down at Vegeta with strained sympathy. The man could read minds, he knew how much Vegeta was suffering, so he couldn't bring himself to be cross.

Goku watched as Piccolo threw Vegeta over his shoulder and brought him back to West City, marching straight through the main entrance of Capsule Corp. He caught Bulmas attention and motioned for her to follow him before bringing Vegeta back into his room.

Soon after laying him down, Piccolo left, not feeling like dealing with the hell that was going to break loose when Vegeta woke up.

But he didn't. It looked like he would be out for a long while, so Goku stood up, careful not to topple over the edge of the tail, and jumped back up to be sucked in by the heavy gravity.

All he could hope for was that Vegeta would come out of this mess soon enough, and he wouldn't have to worry about him getting hurt any more than he already was. 


	3. Bargaining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Vegeta doesn't recover at all.

Vegeta woke up to a light hand resting on his shoulder. He squinted his eyes open and glared up at Bulma, who was giving him a sad smile.

“You feelin’ better?”

He sighed and turned over, “Splendid.”

She frowned, tenderly running her hand up and down his arm, “Don't be like that… Your birthday is in a few days, I want you to at least _try_ to show up.”

“No one would give a shit about my fucking birthday anyway,” Vegeta shook his head and buried his face into his pillow, pulling himself all the way against the wall to get away from her, “I sure as hell don’t.”

“You're wrong, you know. I've already invited everyone and they said they would come… It'd be kind of a dick move to not show up to your own birthday party.”

“They’re used to me making dick moves,” He flipped again, back flush to the cold wall, “Besides, the only person that would’ve given a shit isn’t even here anymore. So your point is moot.”

“Are you talking about Goku?” Bulma cocked an eyebrow. Vegeta had hardly spoken a word to her in months, and now all of a sudden he’s bitter about the one person she least expected him to be bothered over. But, to be fair, no one really knew Vegeta enough to see through that ruse anyway.

“No. Leave.” Vegeta’s face hardened into stone, Bulma knew that the conversation was over.

She sighed and sat back in her chair, “Will you at least make an appearance?”

He sighed back and ran a hand down his face, attempting to clear his foggy, tired brain, “If it’ll shut you up, fine.”

Bulma, properly sated, nodded and stood, bracing herself on her knees and turning to leave. Before she closed the door she paused and turned.

“Oh, Vegeta?”

Vegeta grunted in recognition.

“Please for the love of God take a shower.”

He sighed, “Fuck off, would you?”

Bulma shook her head and stalked out, quietly clicking the door closed behind her. It left Vegeta completely alone again, forcing him to reflect on the things Bulma had said. He knew that it was clear he was lying when he said that Goku wasn't his issue, but he had forced himself into a false truth that Goku meant absolutely nothing to him, that he was the roadblock in the way. That part wasn't entirely false, he was more the roadblock that Vegeta had become dependent on.

The thought that he had become dependent on anyone, let alone Goku, made Vegeta's stomach turn. The fucking idiot had done nothing but make his life harder over the last few years, and the suggestion that he was weak without him was insulting at best.

What absolutely wasn’t weak was Vegeta’s smell. Bulma was right for once, he really was in need of a good scrubbing.

With far too much effort Vegeta threw himself from the bed, almost onto the floor from stumbling, and made his quiet short way to the bathroom. While watching his slippered feet shuffle across the floor he let his mind wander to the old days where he only ate slept and trained. Vegeta didn’t want to feel weak, but it was hard when he hadn’t done anything other than sulk in his room for months.

He honestly felt flimsy as paper, not that he would ever let anyone know, nor did he think any of them would care.

After a moment of thought, Vegeta decided it was better that they didn’t know how terrible he felt, not because he was afraid of pity, but because he knew that they’d be grateful. The only person that ever trusted Vegeta was Goku, everyone else was silently hoping that he would mysteriously become incapacitated or die somehow, whatever would keep him from turning his back on everyone and finishing the job he set out to do ten years ago.

Vegeta would be lying if he said he hadn’t considered it a time or two, but it was more plain indifference rather than lack of nerve that prevented him from going haywire.

And Goku, but we don’t talk about that.

Vegeta stepped into the shower, the cold floor forcing him up on his toes. He sighed, nothing felt worse than being cold after being all bundled up and warm. Though really, he didn’t feel all that warm on the inside.

Suddenly uncaring, Vegeta turned the water all the way up, letting the freezing cold run out over his back, gradually replaced by the scalding water that threatened to boil his skin to nothing.

Unwillingly, he thought of Goku, and chuckled mirthlessly to himself. That sad smile Goku threw to his eldest son before sacrificing himself, it still shone bright and clear in everyone’s minds, and yet Vegeta held not but a candle to him while still alive and breathing.

It was pathetic.

Vegeta bashed his head against the tile wall a few times, willing the thoughts of that oaf out of his brain, but it never seemed to work. No matter how hard he hit his head, how much he slept or how little he ate, Goku still popped up at every turn and it was plain infuriating.

Vegeta, frankly, didn’t feel like showering. The water did nothing to flatten the goosebumps that were ever present on his arms and chest lately. Sitting on the floor, he noticed that his legs and arms looked and felt slimmer, that the hair on his forearms was becoming darker and more wiry. He knew it was because of his lack of nutrition, his body was simply trying to keep him alive.

How rude.

If it wasn’t so cowardly Vegeta knew that he would’ve ended himself months ago. Just to end the pain.

He clicked his tongue quietly and lowered his head, taking deep breaths that were meant to calm him down, but did nothing of the sort.

There was a soft knock on the door.

“Come in.”

Bulma poked her head in, “Did I mention that the party is tomorrow?”

“No.”

“Well, it is. I suggest that while you’re in there you should really clean up. Shit, shower, shave, the works. It’ll be easier to do it now than to wake up early tomorrow.”

Vegeta sighed, “When?”

“Two.”

Waking up at two in the afternoon to Vegeta felt like waking up at five in the morning, just not a good idea. “Could you move it to four? Or just cancel?”

Vegeta could practically hear the sassiness in Bulma’s voice, “Absolutely not. You’ll get up and come downstairs and have a good time with everyone. No ‘buts’.”

“Fine, Jesus.”

“Good… And, Vegeta?”

“Hm?”

“You know it’s okay to miss him, right? We all do.”

Vegeta didn’t respond. After a while, Bulma shut the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Vegeta genuinely did try to have a good time, He sat on the arm of the couch closest to the corner and watched everyone mill around and listened in on a few small conversations. At one point Piccolo came up to him, Gohan behind his leg and an hors-d'oeuvre in his hand. He held it out as an offering and sat down on the floor next to him, Gohan on the couch cushion. The other side of the couch held Yamcha and Chichi.

Vegeta tried his hardest to not look at the woman, it only filled his mouth with a sour taste he couldn’t seem to get rid of. He ate the appetizer in an effort to choke it out. It didn’t work.

Though it pissed him off to no end, Vegeta did tend to keep an eye on the two of them. Goku’s wife, or rather, his ex-wife, and one of his best friends. He noticed that they tended to stick together, moving from conversation to conversation until finally settling on the couch on the far side of the living room.

And one word caught his attention.

‘Pregnant.’

All effort to ignore the woman and the idiot had been thrown away, had she said she was pregnant? How on earth?

Vegeta listened, ice flowing steadily through his veins, goosebumps raising.

She spoke in such a hushed whisper that only Yamcha could hear, or so she thought. Vegeta shared a glance with Piccolo, who seemed to have heard her as well. Gohan, thankfully, seemed too absorbed in his book to pay much attention to anything else.

They listened.

“No, I’m not sure. It really could be either of you.”

“Well fuck, Chi, that’s kind of important…”

“I know that. You and Goku did look kind of similar, maybe it’ll be ambiguous…”

“And what if it’s not?”

Chichi shrugged, looking around with shifty eyes, “Then we’ll figure it out. It’s better not to stress about it now, especially here. There are already negative energies.”

Vegeta made eye contact with her for a split second before she looked away again, motioning to Yamcha to move to a different room with her, seemingly to talk in private.

Vegeta leaned down to Piccolo's ear, “Did you hear that?”

He nodded, “It was hard not to,” He sighed, “This is sad, I almost expected it… Gohan.”

The preteens head shot up, looking at his mentor in confusion. Piccolo cleared his throat.

“Go find your mother. I have to have a talk with Vegeta.”

Gohan’s eyes flicked up to Vegeta for a second before he nodded, “Okay, Mister Piccolo.” He leaned down and gave the green man a hug before following his mother out of the room.

Piccolo, as soon as Gohan was out of sight, grabbed onto Vegeta’s wrist and dragged him around to the sliding door that leads to the backyard.

“What the fuck do you mean you _expected_ it?” Vegeta ripped his wrist from Piccolo’s grasp as soon as the door closed.

Piccolo shrugged, looking off into the sky, “Chichi has been giving off odd pheromones for months now. I knew she was pregnant, but now that I know that it could possibly be Yamcha’s kid, her scent does seem to be a bit unusual as well. Though she doesn’t seem to be showing much at all, how strange.”

“You mean to tell me that she cheated on Kakarot? For how long?”

Piccolo shrugged again, “There’s a lot of unanswered questions, Vegeta. The real question is what are you going to do about it?”

Vegeta’s brow furrowed in anger, “Me?! What the fuck do you want me to do? Kakarot is dead, nothing matters anymore! Not his fucking wife, not that baby, nothing! And I’m the last person that could do a damn thing about it anyway,” He crossed his arms and glared harshly at the ground.

Vegeta honestly couldn’t give a shit whether or not that shitty kid was Goku’s or Yamcha’s, the point is that it _could_ be either of them.

Goku could’ve been fucking his wife the last few days he had while he was still alive, or his wife was fucking some other man while her husband was out risking his life to save her ass.

And either way, Vegeta was livid.

He wasn’t sure why, but the thought of Goku having sex with anyone made him feel strange, unpleasant things in his chest. Sex and Goku didn’t go together, in any sense.

A hard hand came down across his face, leaving a light pink mark. Vegeta looked up at Piccolo, his eyebrows slowly coming down into an angry scowl.

“Get yourself together! Chichi obviously didn’t care enough about Goku to do anything other than sleep with other men. You’re the only one left that cared enough! So fucking do something about it!”

Vegeta was becoming increasingly angry with Piccolo saying the same thing in different ways as if he thought he was just too thick to get it. “What the _fuck_ am I supposed to do?! Huh, Namekian?! If Kakarot is dead and that woman is pregnant, what the fuck do you expect of me? There’s nothing for me to do… There’s nothing I can do.”

Vegeta’s voice petered off as he became more aware of the situation. There really was nothing he could do without going back to his old ways of killing and he really didn’t want to do that. It’s not what Goku would’ve wanted.

So Vegeta, again, was powerless. After a whole decade of being able to do nothing, nothing ever even kind of changed.

Piccolo smacked him hard across the face again. “You idiot! Have you even tried talking to him?”

“Who?!”

“Goku!”

Hearing his name made Vegeta’s brain blue screen again, nothing felt right, all the way down to his fingertips. Why did that always happen when someone spoke of _him_?

Vegeta shook his head, “No… I can’t. I… Piccolo I can’t let that happen. I can’t let him in. I know he’s there… I can feel it,” Vegeta felt himself losing his cool, the rants would happen again soon and Piccolo would get all shades of freaked out, “I went for a walk and he was there with me. Somehow, I don’t know what happened, if it was really him or if I’m finally losing my fucking mind, but I feel like he’s always here with me, watching me, trying to talk to me, trying to reach out and say something and I just can’t get out of my own head long enough to let him in.”

Vegeta’s face was starting to feel warm. He knew he was going to cry if he didn’t stop soon, but he just plain couldn’t make himself shut up.

“Piccolo, I know. I know I could do so much more than I am and I know I’m letting this whole thing get to me way too much but I know if I let him in it’ll hurt me so bad and I’m so fucking scared. Can’t I just lay in bed and feel bad for myself without actually hurting myself? Just knowing he’s there is agonizing, I don’t want to think about him. I don’t want him there. I won’t… I can’t say his name. I can’t. So just stop talking about him. Please.”

Piccolo remained quiet for a time. He had never seen Vegeta this beside himself, over Goku no less. If he missed him so much, why wouldn’t he just talk to him, if only for a minute? But Vegeta was a creature that no one understood. Maybe that’s why he felt so alone. The only other person that even kind of had a look into his mind was Goku and, well…

“Alright. Fine. If you want to mope around and waste away into nothing then that’s your problem,” Piccolo opened the door to go inside, turning around at the last second, “Just know, Vegeta. It’s your game now. You’re the top dog, and if you just give up and put Gohan in danger I’ll kill you myself.”

Vegeta couldn’t argue. He followed Piccolo inside.

The rest of the party went by without Chichi or Yamcha showing back up, and Vegeta wasn’t sure whether or not that was a good thing. Regardless, Bulma seemed more than happy that he hadn’t thrown a fit yet, Vegeta silently hoped that his compliance would make her go away for a while.

 

* * *

 

3 Months Later

It did. Bulma had left Vegeta alone for a nice long time, not bothering him with any social events or anything. She only brought him a meal 3 times a day and came back to collect the cold food a little while later.

And one day he got a text.

The fact that his phone wasn’t dead in and of itself was a miracle, but anyone wanting to talk to him couldn’t be a good sign. It was from Bulma.

_Chichi is in labor if you want to come to see the baby. Everyone is here._

It took him a good four hours to build up the energy to respond. No, of course, he didn’t want to go see that bastard child, that would only make him more miserable, no matter what it looked like.

_Suit yourself, but I think it’d be good for you to leave the house for a bit._

Vegeta scoffed, the last time he ‘left the house for a bit’, he raged himself into a coma out in the middle of nowhere. He didn’t really feel like making a fool of himself again.

But the temptation of seeing whose child it really was, to see if he was right, was too strong to ignore.

He didn’t bother showering, brushing his teeth or his hair, none of that. He simply changed and left out his window with bare feet off toward Mt. Paozu.

The crowd of people outside the little shack was staggering, Bulma wasn’t lying when she said everyone.

He landed next to Piccolo, not saying anything, but asking with his body language.

Piccolo sighed and looked off at the front door, “Bulma, Gohan, and Yamcha are inside. She asked everyone else to leave.”

Vegeta huffed and sat on the ground, leaning against the wall of the house with his arms crossed. Piccolo nodded and looked down at him, “I know, I don’t like the sound of it either.”

Vegeta looked away, analyzing everyone. They all looked bored out of their minds as if they didn’t really give a shit about anything.

Vegeta related, though he couldn’t figure out why they were all here if no one actually cared. Piccolo sat next to him, whispering.

“Everyone wants to know if it’s Goku’s kid. I would say that no one is really happy about Chichi’s decision to be with Yamcha. I don’t know what she’ll do either way, honestly.”

A high pitched grunt came from inside, she sure was having a hard time with that kid. It’d been almost six hours now. If Vegeta didn’t loathe her with every fiber of his soul he was sure he would feel some pity.

Oh well.

The front door opened, Gohan shyly came out and closed it behind him, looking up at everyone with a smile, “It’s a boy.”

No one smiled, but as a mass moved to the door to come inside. Gohan stepped away to let everyone in before coming in himself and closing the door.

Vegeta could confidently say he’d never been inside Goku’s house before, and there was probably a good reason. It probably didn’t help that there were 10 bodies in a house that was barely big enough for Piccolo to stand up straight in.

Slowly, each one of them filed into the bedroom where Chichi lay with a bundle of cloth in her grasp.

Vegeta always thought that childbirth was supposed to be a beautiful and happy time in a woman's life, but all he could gather from the situation is that Chichi looked ugly and miserable.

Not that it was any different than normal.

The faint crying of the newborn brought Vegeta’s attention to the blanket in her arms. He couldn’t see anything other than a little bit of black hair and forced his gaze away. He didn’t want to see it.

Instead, he looked at Yamcha, who was asleep in the chair sat in the corner of the room.

‘What a downgrade,’ Vegeta rolled his eyes, ‘As if six hours is a long enough time to be exhausted that much. Fuck off.’

Looking at Yamcha pissed Vegeta off more than normal. He really regretted leaving the house, everything was better when he didn’t have to deal with anything outside the world of his bedroom.

Vegeta could not physically give less of a shit about Chichi’s well-being, but the fact of the matter is that Goku would’ve stayed up for forty hours straight to help anyone through childbirth if that’s what it took, because that’s the kind of guy he is.

Was.

Vegeta left the room, he didn’t have to look at the kid at all. He knew in his gut that it was Goku’s, there was no point in torturing himself over it. He could practically smell it anyway.

Before he could jet, there was a tug on his wrist. Vegeta turned around to find Gohan’s hand on his arm with bright hope in his eyes.

“Would you like to hold him, Mister Vegeta?” The boy gave him a gentle encouraging smile, and in his other arm was the baby, who immediately seemed to stop crying when he was handed to his brother.

Vegeta glanced at the bed, finding Chichi asleep. This may have been the only opportunity he had to hold that kid while he was still in his infancy.

“Sure.” Vegeta turned and bent down a bit to gently move the kid from Gohan’s arms to his own.

Wow.

Getting a good look at that baby, all doubt was erased from Vegeta’s mind. He looked more like his father than his father did. Suddenly Vegeta was overwhelmed with an urge to protect him with his own life.

Gohan smiled up at him, “His name is Goten.”

Vegeta nodded. It fit him, somehow.

There was a feeling that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Contentment. Vegeta’s chest felt lighter, less tense and on fire. The muscles in his face relaxed enough to let his eyebrows fall into a sleepy expression.

Goten gazed up at him with bright shiny eyes that reminded him too much of Goku, but he couldn’t look away. It had been too long since he had someone look at him with what looked like _adoration_ and not judgment. Goten was so innocent, just like his father.

The last time someone had looked at him like that… He shook his head, it didn’t count. Goku looked at him with those eyes every time they saw each other. It was just how Goku was.

Innocent…

There were so many traits Goku had that made Vegeta a little less miserable.

The happiest man in the world, able to warm even Vegeta’s cold heart. And he passed it right down to his youngest son.

Vegeta mentally damned Goten for giving him a reason to not die for a few years. He handed Goten back to Gohan and actually left the room that time, ignoring the stares from everyone else in the room.


End file.
